...many times a simple choice can prove to be essential even though it often might appear inconseqnetial.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007


Trout and I just got back from a lovely round of drinks and dinner with his former college advisor, and I’ve got some time to kill before Lost starts, so I thought, in an effort to try and keep my word this time around, I’d try and write a post. I promise nothing spectacular or profound, but it’s at least something, right?

So, last night I caught/developed some obnoxious stomach flu bug, thing. Thankfully, I was able to finish the after-work work that needed to be done before the stomach cramps hit full force. I spent the remainder of the evening laying on the couch doing a lot of moaning. Trout might call this mansick…but well I’m not a man, so I’m not really sure how I should classify it. But needless to say I did a lot of lying around making disgruntled/discomfort noises while Trout tried to watch some show on the Military Channel where stuff blows up.

Around 9:00 Trout suggested maybe taking a bath would help. The thought was very intriguing, whether it would help my stomach woes or not. Intriguing enough, even, to get me up off the couch. You see, I love, love, LOVE baths. You may look at that last statement and think….um, okay. Why? You seem very adamant about that. It’s a bath. Neat. Well I have a very good reason behind all this.

Growing up, we had always had a very large bathtub in our house. The large built into the wall model was later replaced by a beautiful porcelain claw foot. The tub was deep and long enough to allow the user to stretch out almost completely. Nothing melts away the stress of the day or muscles aches, pains or stiffness like a nice, long soak. Add some bath salts to that equation (especially Burt’s Bees) and I can assure you there are few other places I’d rather be. Living with dorm bathrooms for four years, trips home always entailed at least one good soak in the bathtub. One of the main selling points for my apartment in Denver was the claw foot-like (albeit short) tub.

Now, the apartment in the 5400 does have a tub, but it’s your typical shower-tub combination. It’s certainly long enough, but not quite wide or deep enough for proper enjoyment. I thought of all of these things as I sat in the tub last night hoping the hot water and relaxation would help calm my stomach. It did help temporarily, but oh, how I miss the tub at my parents’ house.

I know it’s highly unlikely that it will happen, but when Trout and I actually start to look at houses, I swear if one has a decent claw foot in it, I’m going to have a hard time not wanting to buy the house on the spot. Okay, I might want a nice yard too, and a basement, but even if it doesn’t have these things, it will still be really hard.


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